Norwegian Wood
by ffSL
Summary: Hermione and Draco meet 10 years after graduation under very strange circumstances. Murder, lies, and memory loss involved.
1. Chapter 1

"Norwegian Wood"  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, and even that is inspired by a song.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
"Hermione, Ted wants a word with you." Hermione Granger's assistant rolled her eyes as she set down the telephone receiver. "He's got a new case for you."  
  
"Already? I've just gotten back! This is ridiculous." Hermione grumbled as she stood up and headed to her boss's office with her clipboard. She wound her way through the desk and offices of her fellow detectives, occasionally receiving a "Hello!" or "'Morning!" She eventually reached the large office in the corner of the building and stormed through the door.  
  
"Ted, this is ludicrous!" Hermione said upon entering the office. "I can't work on another case until I've had a couple days of rest. I'm sorry; get someone else to do it." She then proceeded to leave the office, assuming she had settled the matter. She was sorely mistaken.  
  
"Well, hello to you too, Granger. I trust you had a nice flight?" Hermione glared in his direction.  
  
"No, in fact, it was awful. Screaming children everywhere, it was a mess. Anyway, I know that you don't really care how the trip was, so just get to the point so I can go home and go to bed." She plopped down in a large armchair in front of Ted's desk. The office was by far the best in the building. Sporting a wonderful view of downtown London, it was comfortable and homey. Hermione had always admired the office much more than the man in it.  
  
Ted only pretended to look offended for a second. He then realized that Hermione could see right through his false expressions of care and decided to, as she said, 'get to the point.'  
  
"Alright, here are the facts. An entire family was found dead yesterday. Apparently, they all dropped dead at exactly the same time, from no apparent cause. This is not something that one finds every day. This family was not very powerful is any way, and none of the people in it appeared to have jobs, yet they lived in a nice apartment a few blocks from here. We can't find any other relatives to ask questions, and no one in their neighborhood knew them at all. Things do not look good." He paused, looking over his glasses at Hermione, whose heart had just skipped a beat. She frowned, trying to act puzzled, when in fact she knew exactly what had happened.  
  
"Do we know anything? What are their names?" She asked.  
  
"Yes, their last name is Potter. Harold, Sophie, and their child, Holly." Ted paused, noticing that Hermione had turned very pale and was sitting perfectly still. "Er... Hermione?" At the mention of her name, Hermione was startled out of her trance.  
  
"Sorry, I started thinking of something else. So, the Potters are dead... no apparent cause.... Any suspects?" She asked, taking mental notes as she spoke. Ted opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a small photograph. He reached over the desk and handed Hermione a picture of a young man wearing sunglasses, who was looking at an old apartment building. "Who and where is this?" she asked, examining the photo.  
  
"That is Dameon Miller. Not much is known about Mr. Miller, but he was seen several times standing outside the Potters' apartment complex, which is the building you see there." Ted watched as Hermione looked at every detail in the photograph, taking everything in. Hermione was known for her noticing of the smallest details in a case. Details that sometimes led to answers.  
  
After a while, Ted decided to risk it. "Are you interested?" Hermione sighed dramatically. Taking one last glance at the picture in her hands, she looked up.  
  
"Yes. These murders are intriguing, and it is only out of my interest for the case that I am taking this up at all." She glared at Ted warningly. "I want to work on my own, and I don't want you pestering me at regular intervals. All I ask is that I deal with it on my own, otherwise you can find someone else." Hermione wasn't usually this bold with people, but she had known Ted for several years now, and knew that if she didn't make things clear from the start, she'd never solve anything. Ted smiled.  
  
"Fine, it's up to you. Normally I'd want you to have a partner for safety reasons, but..." One glance from Hermione told him he shouldn't bother. "Since it's you, I'll let you do it on your own. Let me know what's going on once in a while, okay?" Hermione stood up and headed for the door.  
  
"If you insist." She muttered, reaching for the doorknob.  
  
"Oh, and Granger? Dameon Miller's staying at the Dickensian Inn down the street. He never seems to be in his room, though. We haven't been able to contact him. Good luck." Ted said, typing something on his computer.  
  
"Thanks." Replied Hermione half-heartedly.  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
Draco Malfoy (a.k.a. Dameon Miller) was walking rapidly down the street, closely followed by a tall, muscular man wearing a hooded sweatshirt. Though the street was crowded with people of all different types, Draco's follower stood out among all of them because of his height. Draco looked nervously over his shoulder to find that the man was gaining on him. 'Fuck!' thought Draco as quickly turned a corner and began to sprint down an alley. Just as the tall man turned the alley corner behind Draco, Draco came across a fence that was blocking his path to the main street. 'Oh great.' Thought Draco as the tall man began jogging in his direction. 'Just fucking great.'  
  
Draco quickly took a look around him. There seemed to be only one possible way to get out of the alley. Draco gulped as he looked up at the fire escape of a large apartment building. Without attributing much time to think, Draco leaped up and grabbed onto the rail of the rotting fire escape, pulling himself to a standing position on the second story landing. Draco then continued to race up the stairs as fast as his legs would allow.  
  
The tall stranger following Draco, upon seeing what Draco was doing, accelerated, and began sprinting to the fire escape, where Draco was fast approaching the fifth floor.  
  
Heart pounding, Draco ran faster than he believed he was capable of, finally reaching the roof, which, thankfully, was deserted. Draco only hesitated a second, looking down at his fast-approaching stalker, before disapparating to the safety of his hotel room.  
  
*********************************************************  
  
Throwing his jacket on the armchair, Draco walked slowly to his bathroom. Looking in the mirror, Draco took off the sunglasses he wore everywhere these days... for protection.  
  
Draco examined himself in the mirror for a moment. Had he not known he was looking in a mirror, Draco would have guessed that a complete stranger was standing before him. His deep gray eyes were the only feature that remained of his old appearance. Now, his hair was brown and his face was much thinner than it had been before, though he had never been overweight. Draco shrugged to himself and turned away from the mirror, seeing a sight he certainly hadn't expected.  
  
*************************************************************  
  
Hermione, after getting together all of her stuff, said goodbye to her officemates and left the office building. She headed immediately for the Dickensian Inn about five blocks down the street, where she parked and locked her small car. She headed into the old building, taking in everything around her, as usual.  
  
"Excuse me, I need the key to Dameon Miller's room." Hermione told the woman at the reception desk.  
  
"I'm sorry, miss. Are you a relative of Mr. Miller's?" Replied the woman in a polite voice.  
  
"No."  
  
"Then I'm sorry, but you'll have to ask Mr. Miller for the key."  
  
Hermione, sick of this boring conversation, quickly reached into her pocket and pulled out her badge. "I'm Detective Granger of the London Police Department. I need to see Mr. Miller's room key, please."  
  
The woman looked at Hermione's badge for a moment before turning around in her swivel chair and reaching for a key on the rack behind her. Looking at Hermione skeptically, she slowly gave her the key. "Third floor, Detective Granger."  
  
"Thank you. Is Mr. Miller in right now?" Hermione asked, taking the key and putting it in her pocket along with her badge.  
  
"No, I haven't seen him come in yet." The woman replied, still staring at Hermione suspiciously.  
  
"Thanks. If he does come in, do not tell him that you gave someone else a key to his room." With that, Hermione walked briskly towards the staircase at the far end of the lobby. She then climbed to the third floor, which was eerily quiet. Walking down the long corridor, Hermione pulled the old- fashioned key from her pocket. Looking down at the key, she saw that the number 313 was etched artfully along the edge. Upon reaching room 313, Hermione listened carefully through the door to see if anyone was inside. Satisfied, she inserted the key into the lock, turning it slowly and quietly.  
  
Hermione entered the room and quickly closed the door behind her. She looked carefully around the room, trying to memorize every aspect of it for later reference. Stepping over piles of clothing that had been carelessly thrown on the floor, she headed towards a wooden desk in the corner. As she was rifling through the pile of letters and papers on the desk, she heard a loud POP! behind her.  
  
Extremely startled, Hermione dove for cover behind a nearby bookshelf. Peering through the books curiously, Hermione saw a young man with brown hair and sunglasses throw his coat on the chair next to the desk. 'Where the hell did he come from?' Hermione asked herself. She heard the man sigh and head towards the bathroom.  
  
'It's now or never.' Thought Hermione, creeping as softly as possible from behind the bookshelf. She quickly reached for the gun in her pocket, drawing it and pointing it at Draco just in time for him to turn around and see her looking determinedly at him.  
  
***************************************************  
  
Draco turned and saw a young woman aiming a gun at him. She had brown, curly hair tied back in a high ponytail. She wore all black clothing, and her jacket had a police department patch on the left arm. Her large brown eyes were seemingly looking right through Draco, and her stare made him uneasy. 'What the hell do the police want?' Draco wondered angrily. "Who the fuck are you?" He asked Hermione.  
  
"My name is... Her--" she paused, thinking over everything that had just happened in her mind. "Heather. Heather Grant. I'm a detective with the London Police Department. I'm investigating the Potter family murders. Do you know anything about them?" Hermione kept the hand with the gun in it steady, though she was liking this method of interrogation less by the second.  
  
"No, I haven't. Who are the Potters?" Draco asked, hoping against hope that it wasn't who he thought.... Another Potter family maybe?  
  
"Harry, Sophie, and Holly Potter. Do you know them?" Hermione prayed that the department was right about this. If they weren't, she would be in a serious mess.  
  
As soon as Draco heard what Hermione had said, he slowly closed his eyes and clenched his fists in anger. Lucius Malfoy had a lot to answer for. "Yes, I've heard of them." He said after a moment. He slowly stepped closer to Hermione, pulling his hands out of his pockets and holding them out by his sides; the universal symbol of 'see I'm not armed; you win.'  
  
Hermione slowly lowered her gun, still looking Draco in the eye, searching for any useful hints. Draco noticed her movement, and was thinking as fast as possible about possible ways of escape.  
  
"How did you get in here," asked Hermione, "I didn't hear you open the door...." She squinted suspiciously at Draco.  
  
Draco suddenly realized that he was in more trouble than he originally thought. How could he explain the apparition? He couldn't. Not to a muggle. Especially a muggle in the police force. Draco only thought for a moment before deciding on a plan of action. In a fraction of a second, Draco reached into his pocket, drawing out his wand and aiming it at Hermione, whispered, "Obliviate."  
  
Hermione, caught off guard, was hit suddenly with a powerful spell that made her lose her balance and fall on her back. She was immediately hit with a wave of unconsciousness, making her fade into an uneasy blackness. 


	2. Chapter 2

"Norwegian Wood"  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Draco looked down at the unconscious form of "Heather Grant" before him. She lay motionless, her head leaning at an uncomfortable angle against the bed frame. She still held her gun in her right hand, which Draco removed immediately and placed in his pocket, along with his wand. 'Damnit!' swore Draco, looking down pityingly at Heather. What was he supposed to do now? Slowly, Draco knelt down beside Heather and lifted her head gently off the bed corner and laid it on the floor. Draco pulled his hand away, and with a jolt realized that there was blood on his fingers. Draco looked once again at the back of Heather's head, seeing that she had a deep gash where the back of her head met her neck. Draco inhaled sharply. "Shit!" Draco swore loudly, standing up and going to the bathroom to wash his hand.  
  
For several minutes, Draco paced back and forth, thinking about what the hell he should do, and occasionally looking down at Heather. After some time, he heard her groan from behind him. He quickly spun around and once again knelt beside her. "Detective Grant?" He asked cautiously.  
  
*************************************************  
  
Hermione's eyes flew open. She looked around slowly, not understanding anything she was seeing. There was someone kneeling beside her, but everything was blurry. She heard the person speak.  
  
"Detective Grant?" It was a male voice, but she had to strain to understand what he was saying. 'Who is Detective Grant? Does he mean me?' she wondered. Hermione thought for a moment before realizing that she hadn't the slightest idea who she was. She began to panic, looking around quickly to see where she was.  
  
Draco saw Heather try to sit up quickly, but she immediately groaned again and lay down. He saw that her eyes were open, but they were glassy, and it seemed as though she wasn't seeing normally. After lying quietly for a moment, he heard her speak so softly that it was almost inaudible.  
  
"Where am I?" Hermione wondered aloud, still not seeing clearly. "Who are you?" She asked, turning her head in the general direction of the person kneeling next to her.  
  
Draco responded carefully. "I'm Dameon Miller. You fell on the stairs down the hall and were knocked unconscious. I brought you to my room to see if you'd wake up." He lied casually, hoping that she would forget everything that had happened in his room before the memory charm. Heather looked confused.  
  
"And..." Hermione knew the question sounded silly, but she couldn't for the life of her remember, "Who am I?"  
  
Draco stared, momentarily numb. This was not good. If Heather Grant had forgotten everything,—who she was, where she was, that she was a detective—Draco could not possibly imagine the disaster....  
  
"You... you're Detective Heather Grant." Draco said, hoping that somehow this would trigger some memories. Of course, the name Heather Grant did not ring any bells with Hermione, who lay motionless on the floor.  
  
Hermione's vision was slowly un-fogging, and she could see things more clearly. There was a young man next to her, looking at her with concern. Ignoring the sharp pain at the back of her neck, Hermione sat up slowly, feeling slightly dizzy.  
  
Draco watched apprehensively as Heather sat up, closing her eyes against the incredible pain she must have been feeling. She looked as though she might faint, and Draco steadied her as she struggled to gain her balance.  
  
After a moment, Hermione opened her eyes again and looked at Dameon, whose hand was helping to steady her. "Thanks." She murmured groggily. Hermione winced as her already bad headache worsened. She slowly reached a hand up to her sore neck, finding a nasty gash towards the back of her head. "Fuck!" She swore as her tender neck stung from her touch.  
  
Draco noticed Heather's discomfort, but didn't see anything he could do to help her without revealing magic once again. "Wait a moment," Draco said, standing and walking to the bathroom, "I think I might have some bandages to stop the bleeding." Draco closed the door as he heard Heather grumble something in response. He quickly pulled out his wand, conjuring several bandages. He then reached under the sink, pulling out a healing potion he had hidden in case of emergencies. Pouring some of the potion on the bandages, he opened the door once again and sat next to Heather, who looked at him anxiously.  
  
Draco sat next to Heather, gently and carefully wrapping the bandage around her neck. At first she gasped at the sting caused by the potion, but soon the pain began to ebb away and her headache stopped being so painful.  
  
Hermione looked over at the man she knew as Dameon. "Thank you. It feels a lot better now." She said when he finished with the bandages. She hesitated for a second before deciding that she should stand. Gathering all of her strength, Hermione used the bed as a support and stood up shakily. Her headache worsened, but only slightly. She turned towards Dameon and smiled. "Thanks for all your help, Mr. Miller. I hope I didn't take up too much of your time. It was very kind of you to take care of me."  
  
Draco saw Heather making for the door, but knew he had to stop her. From what he had heard, she didn't remember a thing about her life. How could he let her leave and wander the streets without any idea of who or where she was? Draco cursed in his head, thinking of how much he had really screwed things up. "Heather, wait. I know that your, er, fall made you forget some things. Are you sure you're going to be okay?"  
  
Hermione turned at the sound of Dameon's voice. He wondered if she was okay. She asked herself the same question, but didn't like the answer. 'I don't remember anything!' She thought to herself hopelessly. 'What the hell am I going to do now?' Hermione leaned up against the wall, feeling completely lost. She felt tears sliding down her cheeks as she spoke quietly, "I don't remember...." She felt helpless. "I can't remember anything...."  
  
Draco felt a pang of guilt as he watched Heather realize how helpless she was without her memories. He didn't really understand how she had lost so much of her memory from one charm, but he had a feeling that the spell combined with her head injury caused more damage than might have been expected. Draco knew he had to help her in any way possible. "Heather," he said, "I'll try to help you remember. I'm sure you'll see or hear something that will trigger your memory. But let's go outside for a while, it's stuffy in this old hotel room."  
  
Hermione smiled up at him through her tears. She was so grateful, though she really didn't see how this complete stranger could help her. However, she knew she needed all the help she could get. "Dameon, I really don't know how to thank you...."  
  
Draco shrugged. "Don't worry about it, I can't imagine how odd it must be to lose all your memories in one day." He said as he opened the door and followed her out. Heather looked so appreciative, Draco didn't know if he could bear it. 'If you only remembered how this all happened....' He thought to himself as they headed down the hall.  
  
**************************************************  
  
It was still fairly early in the day when Draco and Hermione decided to walk around for a while. It was a sunny day, and though their situation would not normally be associated with happiness, they were both in good spirits. Hermione was still having a lot of trouble with her memory, but they were both happy when she recognized an old office building fairly close to the Dickensian Inn.  
  
"Do you remember doing anything in or around this building?" Draco asked hopefully as Heather gazed up at the office building before them.  
  
"No, not really...." Said Hermione thoughtfully. "I definitely remember it, though. I don't know why." She looked over at Dameon. "Do you know what kind of offices these are?" she asked.  
  
Draco shrugged. "No idea. Looks like some sort of Police-associated building though. See that plaque over there?" He pointed to a bronze plaque next to the door. "It says 'LPD.' London Police Department."  
  
Hermione stared at the building for a moment before shrugging. "Ah well. Maybe I just passed by it a couple times and that's what I'm remembering."  
  
Draco sighed. "Alright. Let's keep walking then. Maybe you'll see something of more importance later."  
  
The two continued walking around the streets of London until their feet were sore. They decided to take a rest and get some lunch, as it was already a little past noon. There was a small café on the corner and they sat down at a table near the window.  
  
"Dameon, thanks again for helping me with this. I really don't know what would of happened if I didn't have a guide of some sort." Hermione said after they ordered their meals.  
  
Draco smiled. "Don't worry about it, Heather. I told you I didn't have anything else to do. If you don't stop worrying about how you're taking up my time, there won't be any room in your brain for your memories." He said jokingly.  
  
Hermione blushed. "Sorry, I just feel bad about taking up your time."  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. "Do you really? I hadn't noticed." He said sarcastically.  
  
Hermione laughed. "Anyway, just know that I am very grateful." Hermione looked out the large window they were next to. These places all looked familiar, but at the same time she didn't remember ever seeing them before. She sighed to herself. "So...what about you? What do you do? Where do you come from?" Hermione asked as she took a sip of her water.  
  
Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat. What would he say? He didn't really work...not in the sense Heather meant, anyway. "Well, I, er, I'm in between jobs currently." He said, absentmindedly running his hand through his hair. "And I've lived in London for some time now, but I grew up in the country." He looked up at her and laughed. "I'm afraid I'm not a very interesting person. Anyway, let's think about you. Besides that one Police building, have you recognized anything else?"  
  
Hermione looked across the table at Dameon. He was obviously uncomfortable talking about himself, and Hermione decided not to press him. After all, he was taking an awful lot of time helping her. She let her thoughts drift back to her own problems. "Yes, I...I actually recognize many things, but I don't remember when I've seen them before." She looked down for a moment, thinking. "It's a bit strange, isn't it? You wouldn't think someone could forget so much from a fall on the stairs."  
  
Once again, guilt tugged at Draco's thoughts. This whole mess was his fault. Heather had never done anything to him...she didn't deserve this. Admittedly, she had been pointing a gun at him when he had hit her with the memory charm, but she was merely doing her job. Draco tried to make himself feel better by telling himself that he couldn't have told her about the memory charm, as she was a muggle, but these thoughts didn't help to lessen his guilt. "You took quite a harsh fall." He ended up saying rather weakly.  
  
"I guess so." Hermione's response was followed by a somewhat awkward silence. What was there to say? Two complete strangers, each of them alone in almost every way. 


	3. Chapter 3

"Norwegian Wood"  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Hermione and Draco spent most of the day walking around the streets of London, hoping for something to trigger Hermione's memory. Even though Hermione saw many, many familiar things, as London was her home, she couldn't actually recall any particular memories dealing with any of these buildings or areas. Both she and Draco were beginning to feel frustrated. The last thing they needed was what happened to them at five o'clock that evening.  
  
The sun was low in the sky, and around them, everything was getting darker. Artificial lighting was coming on in the buildings surrounding the two as they slowly made their way back to the Dickensian Inn. They hoped to see a restaurant somewhere on their way back to the hotel, as they were both starving, and they headed towards the less busy streets in hopes of finding a place that wasn't too crowded.  
  
Draco and Hermione turned a corner and headed down a deserted street just as the sun completely disappeared over the horizon. They spotted a café up ahead and were just making their way towards it when, seemingly out of nowhere, five men clothed from head to toe in black appeared, surrounding them. Draco immediately knew who the men were and pulled out his wand instinctively. The men came closer to him and began to speak.  
  
"Lucius isn't happy with you, Draco." One man said.  
  
"Says you haven't been answering his letters. Says that you refuse to join the Dark Lord." Said another, whom Draco guessed to be Goyle, Sr. by his deep voice.  
  
Draco took an involuntary step backwards as the men continued to approach. Next to him, Heather was staring at the surrounding figures with fear. Draco whispered so the only she could hear him, "Wait until I say go, and then run down that alley over there." He eyed the dark alley up ahead. Heather merely nodded, unable to speak.  
  
"What're you whispering to your girlfriend there?" Goyle asked, looking at Draco suspisciously.  
  
"Nothing of importance to scum like you." Draco replied casually, tightening his grip on his wand. "And you can tell my father that the reason I don't answer his sorry letters is because I respect him and his master less than I respect a common muggle." Draco paused for his words to sink in. Around him, the Death Eaters gasped.  
  
"You'll pay for that one, Draco. Malfoy or not." A man whose voice Draco did not recognize raised his wand, but Draco was too quick for him.  
  
"STUPIFY!" Draco shouted, stunning the man who had threatened him. "GO!" He screamed at Heather, shoving her out of the ring of angry Death Eaters towards the nearby alley. "STUPIFY! STUPIFY! STUPIFY!" Around him, the figures collapsed faster than they could raise their wands. One Death Eater, however, caught Draco by surprise, hitting him with a disarming spell. Draco, not one to readily accept defeat, turned and sprinted towards the alley he had sent Heather down moments before. Draco managed to throw himself behind a building before getting hit by the curses the remaining Death Eater was casting his way. Seeing Heather up ahead, Draco ran as fast as his legs would carry him towards her. Then Draco, without any explanation whatsoever, quickly grabbed Heather's arm and disapparated back to the Dickensian Inn.  
  
Hermione felt herself being jerked backwards by some invisible force. She felt Dameon's hand on her arm, clutching her tightly as they were magicked back to the hotel. She landed with a thud on the carpeted floor. She tried to gain her balance, but her head was spinning and she nearly fell. Dameon reached out to help steady her before she got yet another injury falling. When she felt somewhat less queasy, she looked over at him uncertainly.  
  
"What the hell was that?" She asked, her trust in Dameon ebbing away.  
  
Draco shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other. If he had ever needed to cast a memory charm, it was now. But his wand was in the hands of a Death Eater, and he had very little chance of getting it back soon, if ever. He looked down into the suspicious eyes of Heather, whose face was still a deathly pale from fear. "Heather," he said uncertainly, "There's something I haven't told you that you should probably know." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm a wizard. I'm part of a magical world that's different from yours, and in that world, there are a lot of bad things happening right now. I can't explain it all now, it would take forever, but those men we saw tonight, they worked for my father, and he, by the look of things, isn't very pleased with me at the moment. Not that I care." He added, mostly to himself. He waited for Heather to react, expecting disbelief, or at the very least shock, but finding neither.  
  
To Hermione's own surprise, she was not shocked by this news. In fact, she felt that something inside her had always known there was another kind of people, magical people, even. Of course, Hermione had no idea what she had known all her life, as she couldn't remember any piece of what her life was like before. "You know, it's strange." She said finally, "I have this feeling that I already knew that...." She looked down at her hands for a moment. "Why did they keep calling you Draco?"  
  
"Oh, right...my name isn't really Dameon. In truth, it's Draco. Draco Malfoy." He stated quickly, realizing at once that his chance at gaining back her trust was growing continually slimmer.  
  
Hermione thought for a second. "Malfoy..." She tried desperately to remember where she'd heard the name before, but couldn't think of anything. "That sounds so familiar, but I just can't put my finger on it."  
  
Draco looked at her, wondering if what he thought could possibly be true. Could she really be a witch? It was possible, considering he knew almost nothing about her. After all, she wasn't shocked at the news that there was a magical world muggles knew nothing about, and she recognized his name. "Do you think it's possible that you could be a witch?" He asked her.  
  
Hermione looked up immediately. "Me? A witch?" She asked in surprise. She shook her head. "No, I don't think so." But, the more she thought about it, the less strange it seemed. "Well, I'm not sure...I suppose it's possible. Is there some way to tell?" She asked Draco.  
  
Draco thought about it. Was there some way to distinguish between a muggle and a magic person? No, not really. If someone carried a wand or read the Daily Prophet or could make strange things happen, then they were part of the magical world, but if a person didn't know who they were...it would be nearly impossible to tell. Draco reached into his pocket absentmindedly, searching for his wand but finding nothing. This brought Draco out of his thoughts rapidly and a sense of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. "I don't think there is any way to tell, but we can figure that out later." He told Heather quickly, removing his hand from his pocket. "I'm sorry that you got dragged into all of this, and if you want to leave, I understand. Getting involved in a magical war you don't even know if you're a part of is the last thing you need right now, so I'd probably be more of a burden than a help from here on out." Draco looked up to see Heather looking at him with a mingled expression of curiosity, suspicion, and worry.  
  
Hermione stood there awkwardly, not really knowing what she should do. Draco was pretty much telling her to leave, but she had nowhere to go. "Er," she said uneasily, "Draco, I understand that you probably want me out of the way, but the thing is, I don't have any money, or a place to go, and..." she hesitated, not wanting to be rude, but having no alternative, "could I just stay with you a little longer? Just to try and get my memory back? I don't need to follow you around, I could just sleep here and wander around London during the day on my own." She looked up at him to see his reaction. She was relieved to see that he didn't look annoyed or angry, just...thoughtful.  
  
"Of course you can stay here, Heather." Draco said with a smile. "And you can 'follow me around' if you wish, but it might be dangerous, especially if I don't get my wand back soon."  
  
Hermione beamed at him. "Thank you so much, Dam--er, Draco. You can't possibly know how grateful I am." She looked down at her watch and laughed. "I can't believe it's only quarter to six. I'm so t-ti-tired." She said, failing to stifle a yawn.  
  
Draco suddenly felt a wave of sleepiness wash over him. "Heather, you can have the bed. I've got some things to do before I go to sleep. I'll be back in a while." He said as he rubbed the tiredness from his eyes and made his way towards the door. He turned to look back at her before leaving the room. "I'll see you tomorrow." He said with a smile and closed the door behind him.  
  
AN: Sorry it took so long for me to update. Hopefully now that summer has started I'll be able to update more frequently. 


	4. Chapter 4

"Norwegian Wood"  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Draco walked to the top of the stairs at the end of the hallway in the Dickensian Inn. Looking around briefly and seeing no one, he disapparated with a small POP!  
  
Suddenly he found himself in the alleyway he had been in with Heather minutes before. The street was dark and silent, which meant that the Death Eaters had probably left. Sure enough, when Draco looked around the corner, there was not a soul in sight.  
  
Praying that he might find his wand somewhere, Draco searched every inch of the area where he had been disarmed. He found nothing. It looked as though the Death Eaters had been smart enough to keep Draco's only weapon away from him.  
  
Cursing, Draco walked farther down the street, hoping with all his might that he just might manage to find it...  
  
When looking under a parked car, Draco heard a POP! behind him, a sound that sounded horribly like an apparation. Wheeling around, he came face-to- face with yet another hooded figure. "Hello, Draco." It said.  
  
Draco felt a shiver when he heard the cold voice. Usually, Death Eaters didn't scare him, but something about this man standing before him, his face completely covered, made Draco want to cower in fright. He didn't realize why until the voice spoke again.  
  
"Your father has introduced us before, when you were younger. Lucius would have given up on you becoming a Death Eater long ago had it not been for me. I always thought you had the makings of a good supporter...was I wrong?" It said, stepping towards Draco.  
  
Draco gave an involuntary sharp intake of breath when he realized he was talking to the Dark Lord himself. Draco was moving his lips noiselessly, obviously too shocked to speak, when he noticed his wand hanging loosely in Voldemort's right hand. The sight of this somehow gave him confidence and he spoke. "Yes," he said, "You were wrong. I have no intention of becoming a Death Eater. Now or ever."  
  
Even though Voldemort's face was hidden, Draco was almost positive that he was smirking. "Is that so?" The Dark Lord said simply.  
  
"Y-yes." Said Draco, trying to look anywhere but at the hooded figure. "Are you going to give me my wand?" He asked, although he thought he knew the answer.  
  
"Yes." Said Voldemort, surprising Draco. "However, I ask you to think about what your life would be like in my service--your family would respect you again, you'd have money, power, honor, and life." Voldemort handed Draco his wand. "If you chose not to follow in your father's footsteps, you may end up the same as your school enemy, Potter." He laughed coldly.  
  
"The Potters?" Draco said, trying to remember who had been asking him about the death of the Potter family...it had been Heather! He suddenly remembered her asking him if he knew anything about them before she lost her memory. She was the detective on that case, and the police thought it was him! Draco glared at Voldemort. "The police think it was me, you know. They'll probably arrest me any day now. Do I have you to thank for that?"  
  
"No. Lucius did the actual killing, though I obviously can't deny that I was extremely pleased."  
  
Draco thought about it. So his father had killed them...yes, that made sense, he had seen Lucius looking around an old apartment building for days before Heather visited him and informed him of the death of the Potters. He remembered waiting outside the building, in a park across the street, for Lucius to come out so that Draco could once again spy on him. That was probably why the police suspected him...he had always been around the Potters' apartment before it happened. "So are you just going to let me go tonight? You're not going to kill me or curse me?"  
  
Draco could feel Voldemort's smile. "No. Not tonight." He said, and disapparated.  
  
Hermione sighed and went to the small bathroom in Draco's hotel room. Looking in the mirror, she removed the bandage from her neck, prepared to see the horrible gash she had obtained that morning. To her surprise, her neck was almost completely healed; all that was left was a small scar. She looked down at the bandage in confusion and began to wonder if her fast recovery had something to do with the magic Draco had told her existed that evening. Remembering that Draco had gone into the bathroom to get the bandage that morning, Hermione began to look around, not really expecting to find anything extraordinary. She looked under the sink to find a small red bottle there. The label read: QUIK-HEAL POTION FOR ALL CUTS AND BRUISES (Approved by the experts at St. Mungo's).  
  
Hermione replaced the bottle, grateful that Draco had used the potion on her cut; she knew she would have been in pain all day if he hadn't. Standing up, Hermione washed her face and headed back into the bedroom wishing she had a fresh change of clothes. She yawned and stepped towards the bed. She felt something cold and smooth under her foot a split second before she slipped and came crashing to the floor next to the bed for the second time that day. "Oh, fuck it all." She moaned as she sat up. She reached under the bed, feeling around for what she had slipped on. After a moment she pulled out what looked like a small leather wallet. Opening it curiously, she found that it was a badge of some sort, with a photo I.D. The picture was definitely of her, but the name was not Heather Grant...  
  
...it was Hermione Granger.  
  
Gasping, Hermione dropped the badge in shock as suddenly a lifetime's worth of memories came flooding back to her. Her parents...Hogwarts...Harry and Ron...her years at muggle university...her time as a detective...discovering that Harry and his family were dead...meeting Dameon--no Draco. Hermione's eyes widened as she realized whose hotel room she was in. She looked around quickly as if expecting Draco to suddenly appear out of the shadows. 'It all makes sense!' she thought, 'I didn't hear Draco come in when I was looking around his hotel room because he must have apparated. Then he must have modified my memory to make me forget about the apparation...and I hit my head...and the combination must have made me lose my memory.' She sat for a moment, still trying to figure out everything that had happened.  
  
After thinking for some time, Hermione realized that she could use her situation to her advantage. Draco didn't know that she had gotten her memory back, or that she was really Hermione. This way, she could ask him questions about Harry's death without him getting suspicious. Smiling to herself, Hermione carefully slipped the badge further under the bed and stood.  
  
As she drifted off that night, she felt a renewed sadness for Harry, Sophie, and poor little Holly. At the same time she felt a surge of hatred towards whoever had killed them, whether it was Draco or someone else associated with the Dark Lord...  
  
...but was Draco associated with the Dark Lord? Those Death Eaters certainly hadn't seemed to like him very much, and Draco had said he hated Voldemort...  
  
...but that didn't mean he didn't still hate Harry.  
  



End file.
